Page 54 of Her Cowboy Reunion

She belonged here. With him. With his son. In Heath’s arms, day and night. Now his job would be to convince her of that.

“We want to thank you for coming today.” She smiled at the gathering of people and they smiled right back. “I didn’t know my uncle Sean, but the memories you emailed to us painted a picture of a wonderful man who left us too soon. While Uncle Sean wanted his ashes sprinkled on the land he loved so well, we decided that there should be a place to remember him.” She pointed to a spot between the house and the road. “He liked shade, so we picked a favorite group of trees. He liked sun, so the garden faces southwest. He was born a Southerner, and while Southern plants don’t transplant well to Idaho, woodcrafts do, so the benches in the garden are from Kentucky. But more than anything, my uncle Sean loved God and his country. He loved Idaho. The beauty of the valley and the majesty of the mountains. We see it here in his house. On this ranch. And in the kind of job he did every single day. From the battlefield where he risked his life to save others and here, where he opened the doors of opportunity to others.” She smiled at Harve, Rosie and Aldo, then gave a slight pause before she went on. “Anger and division kept our family at odds a long time. Our hope is that this memorial today, on a day when we remember those who’ve served our country, becomes one that brings family, friends and this sweet town back together.” She looked down. “Zeke. Are you ready?”

His son nodded and Lizzie handed him the plaque to carry.

The elderly honor guard took their places. Flags in hand, guns shouldered, they began the solemn walk to the driveway’s curve.

When they got to the curve they veered left, toward a small copse of trees. There was no casket flag to fold. There were no ashes to scatter. But as they set the flags into newly installed flag holders, the freshly landscaped site took on a new meaning.

It wasn’t the patch of flowers the women had tucked in front of a few trees.

It wasn’t the two rustic benches inviting quiet repose.

With the flags in place, and a single bagpiper standing by while seven old fellows stood at attention, Heath began to see new possibilities out of old realities.

Reverend Sparks was there to lead them in prayer, but he’d asked Heath to say a few words in remembrance, enough to remind people who Sean was. What he meant to him, Ben, Aldo and Harve. To Jace and Wick. To so many.

He shifted slightly to the right and faced the crowd. “I’m keeping this short, like Sean liked,” he promised. That garnered a few smiles. “But also to the point, because Sean respected that, too.

“Sean Fitzgerald was a good man. He took care of his own, and he reached out to find the best folks to do the job to make his dream come true. When you look around Pine Ridge, you can see he did exactly that. But he wanted more,” Heath told the people. He met a few looks of surprise, then adjusted his meaning. “Not for himself. For the town. The people in it. He ran out of time, and he’d be the first to admit he might have back-burnered it too long. Today, I’d like to see that change.” He met the eyes of Eric Carrington and two other wealthy landowners who were rarely seen around town. “Big spreads are nice, but if we don’t work together to save this town, our town—” he stressed the words gently “—we could regret it. I think most of us have had enough regrets in our lives. Something to think on, anyway, while we pray together.”

He linked hands with Lizzie on one side and Zeke on the other, and when the aged pastor led them in prayer, a flicker of hope began within him. Not a big, burning flame. Nothing so grandiose. Just enough to recall Lizzie’s words, how everything had to begin somewhere.

Three old soldiers stepped forward. Aiming high, they shot seven volleys into the clear blue sky, marking the moment.

He hadn’t had a lot of time to mourn when Anna died. There was too much to do, and Zeke did enough crying for both of them.

And he’d held back tears during Sean’s final days and his passing because Sean had entrusted him with a huge job. Tears had no place at such moments. He didn’t want his dear friend and mentor to spend his last earthly moments worrying about the ranch.

But today, tears slipped down his cheeks.

Not too many, and he dashed them away, but enough to know that maybe he’d grown a bigger, better heart somewhere along the way.

Lizzie hadn’t known Sean, but she clutched a wad of tissues to swipe tears away as she watched the solemn military salute.

And then one lone bagpiper stepped forward to play “Amazing Grace.”

The poignant notes of the familiar tune…with the row of aged men standing at attention, their love for God and country so obvious…

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